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Archive for February, 2010

Yesterday was Blondie’s 7th birthday.  The agreement says that we get her the entire day, but because of school and because I wanted her to have a chance to celebrate with her mother and siblings, we only took her from 5-8pm.  I guess you can’t tell from the blog, but I do things for Mull’s benefit more often than you might think even though it’s never acknowledged.  The truth is that Blondie would have been thrilled to have us take her to school and pick her up and have her birthday with just us.  In a very hateful, selfish way, I’m kind of sorry now that I didn’t, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

Paladin and I had been working on a surprise for Blondie for a while, but we weren’t getting any call backs from a local horse riding ranch.  Then, at nearly the last minute on Wednesday evening, they finally called.  We’d been telling Blondie that we were going to take her to dinner at one of the 3 sit-down places here in town, but instead we managed to get a private riding lesson set up for last night.  We threw a burger kids meal at her, and tossed her in the car along with a new pink cowgirl hat.  Blondie just talked and talked as usual and most of it was about fire. 

It was a weird conversation actually.  She said something about us spending a lot of money (we’d stopped to get her a bottle of water at the store) and then it segued into, “I told Mom that you are paying for the window.”  It took me a second to remember that she was talking about a conversation we’d had with them about getting out of their bedroom at the trailer if there is a fire.  Their mother tells them that the window won’t open in their room, and we told them to break it if they had to get out.  When they told us ‘Mom would get mad’ about it (when isn’t she mad?), we told them not to worry about it and that we’d pay for the window.  It wasn’t the only weird conversation either.  On the way home, Blondie said, “You know some people get to stay with their Dad’s all the time” and then, “Some people’s Dad’s don’t even send them a card or see them.”  Paladin had brought her a card and a rose to Mull’s but her real presents and her Littlest Pet Shop cake are for tonight.  I’m not sure what’s trying to get out of Blondie’s head, yet.  Something is going on in there though.  It always makes me worry about her.

Anyhow, we got to the ranch and drove up and got out.  Blondie was excited to see all the animals: several dogs including a very randy St. Bernard that was repeatedly pile driving a tiny litte Australian shepard (I mean he KEPT at it) and a goat that kept rubbing up against Paladin and I to be petted when it wasn’t chasing after another of the dogs.  Man, I wish I’d had a video camera.  😦  Blondie was still completely clueless, however.  I finally explained to her that she was there to learn to REALLY ride a horse.  She lit up.  Daddy and I hung back and let the trainer take over from there.  That lady must have the patience of Job because Blondie didn’t stop talking the entire time.  She put Blondie through some exercises and had the kid working the horse with nothing but the reins in no time.  I wish we could afford to send all three of the little girls to one of their summer camps because they could really benefit from learning to work hard at taking care of the horses and from the riding.  With the straight riding lessons, they learn to curry the horse before riding and put away the tack, but they don’t get to feed and muck out stalls and get down to the bones of owning a horse. 

At any rate, Blondie LOVED it.  She kept asking if she could come back again, and I told her that she could, but she’d have to earn the money herself in the same way that Bell and Martian earn money by doing extra things around the house.  Sadly, she kept complaining that she was too little and shouldn’t have a job yet.  I tried to tell her otherwise, but it was like talking to a brick wall.  It’s yet another Mull thing; she can’t afford to bribe the little girls AND the teenagers.  Maybe I can get through to Blondie this weekend.  The regular classes are only $15 each and that’s not so horrible that we couldn’t let all three little ones go IF they work for the priviledge.  I’m doing my darnedest to instill a work ethic in these kids and it looks like I’m succeeding occasionally. 

Martian got an F on his last report card and he’d been warned that an F would mean no computer and no video games at our house (Mull could care less).  It’s been killing him.  lol  But, his grades are SO much better this semester that he might even manage a B Honor Roll.  That tells me that his and Bell’s D Honor Roll addiction is more about them not bothering to care how they do in school.  I’m definitely going to expect more from them in the future!  I knew they were too smart to be doing so poorly.  Bell is looking forward to spending the entire day with us on her birthday, and I plan to put the bug in her ear that we won’t feel right taking her out of school if she’s making D’s.  Yes, I am the evil stepmother.  🙂

I wish last night could just have been about Blondie, but alas…

While Blondie was out in the riding arena, Paladin told me that Mull was pooched out a bit and he’d asked her.  Yep, Mull is pregnant for the 7th time.  Who had February in the pool?  What does she do?  Does she freakin’ store the sperm inside her body for later use?  She had to have gotten pregnant IMMEDIATELY upon marrying Blind Boy.  I’m going to guess that she’s planning on either a home birth or showing up at an emergency room at the last minute.  She’s paranoid in the extreme about government intervention and there’s no way they can afford the medical care out of pocket.  Either way, we are laying down the law with her this time.  The minute she goes into labor the kids come here and none of that farming them out like she pulled last time.  We are warning her ahead of time about that and about the fact that we will NOT be lying to the children about her pregnancy.  We will be going over every stage of it with them and I’m thinking that I need to buy them one of the books about baby development.  I know it’s not really my place, but Mull’s already intimated to Paladin that she’s trying to hide this from them and I’m not going through 5 months of “if you drink too much water, you get fat”.  I STILL hear that every few weeks!

I don’t know who to feel sorry for at this point.  Apparently, the pregnancy did nothing to sway Blind Boy’s family since Mull must have known she was pregnant at Christmas and BB’s family STILL didn’t want anything to do with her which makes me wonder if Blind Boy was lamenting his father to Blondie (hence the “some kids don’t even get a card” talk).  I feel so sorry for Bell because here is yet another child for her to raise; I can always tell who is really doing the parenting at Mull’s because when the kids are with us they repeatedly slip up and call me by that person’s name.  Then I did the math and realized that Mull will be popping in August; so either this kid will show up close to my birthday or to Indie’s.  I think Indie is the one I feel sorriest for already.  When we call over there, we hear her desperately trying to get her mother’s attention and to be fair, Mull has paid slightly more attention to her than she used to due to a combination of things: Blondie is getting older and doesn’t need to be Mull’s shadow anymore and Indie has grown so much that she’s less a baby but still a toddler (i.e. less work for Mull to be around her).  Indie will once again be out of luck.  It makes me want to cry.

Paladin also makes me want to cry.  He didn’t mean to.  He was hyped up over just hearing about Mull’s pregnancy and while Blondie was in the riding arena, he started chatting about it.  I love him but he can be extremely clueless.  He should have gotten the clue when I wasn’t talking or looking at him or the look on my face, but he just kept going on and on.  “Wonder what she’ll name this one?  Maybe she’ll just give up and start numbering them.  Hey, this is lucky number seven!  I wonder how many more she’s planning on.  Let’s see she’s thirty fi…”  I stopped him dead there.  I already have the words “lucky number seven” burrowing into my brain.  I don’t need anyone doing the math on Mull’s age/pregnancy ratio. 

I was still numb though.  Right up until I typed this.  Now, I have tears dripping down my cheek.  That’s probably a good thing.  I was starting to think I wasn’t able to feel anymore.  The doctor wanting to biopsy cells didn’t even make me flinch.  Not even PMS had made me cry this week.  I guess I can feel when it hurts enough.  I just so want to leave.  I want to see the kids, but I don’t want the baby conversations.  I don’t want to have to explain the miracle of life when it’s housed in someone I wouldn’t let care for a cat.  I want to go someplace quiet and dark and sleep.

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Suckification of me

I agree with ya’ll February does suck.  It’s been two weeks now since the suckfest began in earnest here and it’s not stopping. 

Yesterday, I got a call that my Pap smear is also showing something “abnormal” and they tested it 3 times before telling me.  I understand why they waited but it had been almost 6 weeks since I’d taken the test.  I’m starting to wonder what gets these people in a hurry!  I’m going to have some cells collected and tested.  While I’m at it, I’m going to see if they want to biopsy the endometrium too.  So, maybe I won’t end up having to do this same test twice.  Not that stirrups, dye, and cutting out abnormal looking cells doesn’t sound like fun.  😦  The good thing about this is that while I had the P.A. on the phone I told her how I thought the ultrasound needed to be moved up and she agreed.  It just didn’t make sense to me to retest at the time they wanted to do it because it would have been a bad comparison.  So, score one for playing your own doctor.  Score another for not beating the SH*T out of the lab lackey when she says to you, “Well, these routine exams have to take what they can get; we have so MANY pregnant women in here right now.”  Routine.  Yeah, I really should have went off on her ass for no other reason than the fact that she was barely an embryo herself.  It might have taught her to be a little more considerate in the future. 

The bad thing is that the swallow x-ray was today and it didn’t look good to me.  I, of course, know diddly.  But, I could see some spider web areas of dye coming off the stomach.  That’s important because the P.A. was also telling me that Dr. Trexie had put some notes in his log that it looked like I might be losing blood somewhere.  Looks like it may well be that I’ve sprung a serious leak in the gastric area.  And here Paladin thought it would be between my ears.  At any rate, a hematologist will probably be involved soon. 

Believe it or not, there is actual good news today.  Mom’s wonderful male nurse, Boudreaux, came by yesterday and threatened to call Social Services and turn her in as a neglect case if she didn’t agree to go to rehab.  We love Boudreaux.  🙂  That would’ve meant sending Mom to a nursing home for a month or more while she had her case heard.  Mom caved!  Woohoo!  That is a serious relief.  It’s going to take a week or so to get her a spot in rehab, but she’s going.  Whew!

I’m going to see if I can comment on some of ya’ll’s posts before I have to head out to Mom’s and then to a sleep study appointment.  Ok, I was going to do that before I got dragged into helping Paladin fill out the vasectomy reversal paperwork.  I’ll see ya’ll as soon as I can.  I am reading your posts though including some of your friends’ posts (Yikes! and I totally think her Mom did do it!  either way, watching the porn was a skanky move).  Byes!

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That’s the only way to describe last week.  Thursday was reasonably quiet.   Well, except for the imminent snow storm.  Yeah, I know ya’ll up North would kill to only have an inch or two of snow, and I get it.  But in Louisiana, that’s debilitating.  It garnered a Friday snow day for everyone. 

Friday we were supposed to go back out to see Mom whom they had finally put into a regular room.  The brothers came out for a little while to watch Zombieland and took Pascal home with them.  An hour later, they called to tell me that an old friend of the family had died.  It was incredibly sudden and shocked us all.  Jimmy Dale had been in and out of hospitals and nursing homes for the last few years.  When we were at the ICU with Mom, there were several local families that we knew visiting relatives in the same ICU including Jimmy Dale’s family.  Dave and Will were probably the closest friends Jimmy Dale had for the last decade since his mother had passed away and they walked down to visit with him while we were in seeing Mom.  Jimmy Dale was up talking and laughing.  He looked fine.  The next morning he went into cardiac arrest.  We were completely shocked and the Brothers rushed out to the wake that night and the funeral was held over until Saturday.  That and the snow meant that we put off seeing Mom until Sunday.

Mom has seen a couple of different specialists and one thing is very clear:  The doctor that did the surgery on her leg and was responsible for her broken arm and wrist has destroyed the use of her last good arm.  This is the same doctor that tried to force her into a nursing home and who sent her home too early causing her to have a second surgery on her leg.  What does it all come down to?  Cash.  It wasn’t good enough that she had health coverage because he couldn’t make her profitable enough for him.  The second leg surgery made it clear that he had messed up when they put her in one of the nicest rooms in the hospital.  They don’t do that for Medicaid patients.  Yes, I understand the realities and how Medicaid and sometimes Medicare force doctors to work the system and move patients around.  However, that was the last straw.  I started saying to Tina, “It’s time to let a lawyer look into it and sort it out.”  And, we’ve all agreed on it.  I don’t expect much to come of it, but the guy needs a hand-slap if nothing else.

Then last night, Tina was hit with her own last straw.  Mom was released last night and sent home.  However, since her leg is now considered to be weight bearing, she is supposed to be charged to use the ambulance service.  She can’t use either arm and up until now has been refusing to go into rehab for her legs; Mom has given up and doesn’t care about being left in a wheelchair at this point.  Then as they released her from the hospital they dropped the bombshell that the cost of the trip home would be $2600.  Oh, but if the non-emergency service comes, it’s only $900.  Tina lost it and started crying.  The doctor worked around it by saying that Mom’s legs had to stay elevated (part of what was complicating her condition is that she had over 40 lbs. of fluid on her body).  Mom no longer has a choice.  She must walk SOMEHOW. 

Now, we have to find a way to force her into rehab.  Paladin and I talked about it last night and if worse comes to worst, we might have to take it to court and have her declared incompetent.  She will not listen to reason or pleading and since she can talk, the medical personnel must give in to her wishes.  Mom’s only wish is to be at home.  Tina is giving the home health nurse and Mom’s doctor a chance to talk her into it first.  Paladin suggested that after that we talk to Social Services and see what they can do, but if neccessary, I will take it to court.  Mom just can’t keep living like that and Tina and both of the Brothers are spending their entire lives catering to her.  The least Mom can do is make it easier for them and get off her butt.  I understand how she feels but I’m just plain mad at her at the same time.  Paladin and I were talking last night and I was explaining to him about my maternal grandmother (her own treatment of her children including how abusive she was to her daughters) and how Mom is repeating that pattern to some extent.  It caused me and him to realize why I just cannot be brought to suffer whores.  Grams was an out and out user/whore that would come home when it suited her to come and mooch anything she could lay her hands on and was allowed by everyone around her to get away with that behavior her entire life.  In the end, she was in a hospital bed being catered to by her sons.  Sound familiar, Mom???  Mull???  No, my mother was never a whore, but manipulating the people around her into taking care of her has always been her M.O. and Mull does the same.  Though, I guarantee you neither woman would ever admit to that; in their eyes, they’ve just done the best they could.  I’ve told Bell several times that I understand exactly where she is coming from because I lived it.  You love them, but at the same time, you know they are asking unreasonable things of you.  Fortunately, I’m an adult and I have a choice.  I just need to get my siblings to stand up to her too.  We all have at different times, but never as a group.  I don’t look forward to the next couple of days.

I wish I could have had a happier post.  I would have tried to end on a happier note, but the camera died completely.  😦  I went half-crazy Friday.  I’m still numb and I tried to pull myself out of my funk by getting a somewhat radical hair cut.  The stylist at the Deridder Walmart left it long but very choppy.  It was supposed to be like Jaclyn Smith and ended up EXACTLY like Jennifer Anniston after she got done flat ironing it (I pretty much have Jen’s hair color too).  I never flat iron my hair.  It looked kind of “old rock slag” to me.  Any time I see a woman my age or older with flat ironed hair I tend to think of Madonna for some reason and it’s not a pleasant association.  I couldn’t make up my mind whether I liked it or not.  Everybody else had one of two reactions: you look like one of those women trying to look like their daughter OR you just don’t look right without the curls.  I wish I could have shown ya’ll and gotten your opinion.  I thought it was ok.  The cut is GREAT!  I’ve washed it and now, I’ve got Lori Singer ala Footloose hair.  It’s cute.  I also realized that I had no nail polish or lipstick left.  I don’t know how that happened.  So I splurged on some of the cheap NYC brand stuff and their nail polish was really nice which surprised me considering that it’s only $1.  It was nice but it didn’t help my numbness.  I’ve been cleaning a lot and disappearing into old British sitcoms.  Poor Paladin wants to do something, but there’s nothing to do but wait another couple of weeks for tests to be finished. 

P.S.- Hey Ginger!  I found my address book this morning.  Let me know when would be a good time with all your classes.

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And here I thought…

And here I thought yesterday was going to be so quiet.  That was until about noon.  Paladin went to check our bank account and noticed that the address on the account had been changed to a P.O Box.  At first, we thought the bank had mixed up our account with another customers and then I said, “Doesn’t Mull use a post office in Deridder?”  We had to rummage around to find her P.O. Box address (it was like pulling teeth when we got it back when she moved the kids to the trailer…the only reason we got it then was because she was trying not to give us her physical address…either way we never use it).  Lo and Behold…  YEP.  It was her address.  Paladin lost it when he found out it was her address on our accounts.  He jumped up and ran to the bank to find out WTF they let her do. 

Way back when we changed the bank accounts over to just me and him, the bank said that they couldn’t remove her from the savings account because it had been used to start the others.  It had something to do with them being a credit union.  I figured that they just couldn’t figure out how to do it without starting over from the beginning and didn’t want to be bothered.  Either way, they had assured us that there would be no way she could access any of the other accounts. 

When Paladin got to the bank yesterday, they spent an hour hemming and hawing in back rooms.  Then one of the bank employees in the mortgage section told him over the speaker phone that she had accidentally put Mull’s address on there.   Uh huh.  There are a few problems with that:

a) They didn’t have Mull’s address.  We had to search hard to find it here at the house.  When asked for her address, we always give people her physical address at the trailer park.  And, none of the divorce paperwork has either address on it (the mortgage lady had a copy).  So, Mortgage Lady, you guessed and happened to get the right address?  You didn’t have a phone listed for Mull either.  I’m not saying there’s no way in the world for you to get the address.  I’m saying that if you did you had to work very hard to “accidentally” change the address.

b) Why would you put down an address other than the location of the property?  Every single piece of paper has gone to this house and this house alone.  ALWAYS.  Even in the year that Paladin spent on base and Mull spent in her flophouse, the bank statements, bills and mail always came here. 

c) What reason did you have for changing it?  The only reason you had recently for going over the mortgage would be to send out tax statements.  We got the tax statement here at the house weeks ago.

In other words, the bank F’d up BIG TIME and they knew it.  The address had to have been changed at the bank itself.  If Mull had changed it online (sadly, she could have…because of Paladin’s memory issues I could never convince him to change the password), the banks records would have shown us changing the address.  One great thing about Paladin being on the roids is he is no longer the pussycat he used to be.  He gave the bank a good talking to and now there are extra controls on the accounts including a password that has to be given if you sneeze too hard in the place.  He wasn’t finished there either.  He called Mull up told her that he knew about her going into the bank and that the next time, she’d go to jail for it.  She didn’t even try to deny it.  He scared the crap out of her.

I’m glad because this FREAKED me out!  The idea that she could be looking at ANY of our records worries the hell out of me.  I’ve never trusted her farther than I could throw her.  And since she stole those shoes, she’s been going downhill quickly.  AGAIN.  I just didn’t realize how much until this happened. 

Mull had to have done this between Jan. 31st (the date our last statement was mailed) and Friday of last week.  Over last weekend, we sold our old van and Paladin put the cash from the sale into the savings via the ATM.  The ATM automatically put the money into the old savings account with Mull on it and on Monday Paladin had to log on and move it to our savings account.  I’m guessing that if she’d walked in and the bank said there was a few hundred dollars sitting there, Mull might have turned around and walked out with it.  Luckily, when we stopped using the account we left $5 in it and thanks to interest it’s up to all of $12 which I guess wasn’t enough for her to risk her neck. 

Mull really f’d herself over once again by doing this though.  We’ve guessed that she isn’t going to file her taxes this year.  Either she’s too afraid to get her W-2 from her employer because of the theft or she’s just too afraid to let anyone in the government know anything.  She tends to be paranoid in the extreme.  But since it doesn’t look like she’s going to file her taxes, we WERE going to offer to give her $400 of our tax return if she’d let us claim all five kids.  Now, there’s no way in hell we’d even offer.  Not to mention that if a single dime moves in our accounts, her butt is going to be sitting in the county lock-up before she can say boo!  I’ve suggested that Paladin stop her automatic bank draft for the child support and move to sending her the support in the form of a money order in the mail.  It might not make our account safer (in our statement it shows up as a draft from our bank acct. # to her bank acct. #…I don’t like the idea of her even knowing our bank acct. # at this point), but it would be an extra inconvenient step she’d have to take just to take care of her banking. 

It just really really worries me that she’s pulling something like this now.  I expected her to try something back when Paladin and I first moved in out here.  She had been using their AAFES credit card without him noticing right up until last January; I looked and happened to see a nearly $300 charge and she eventually copped to it because “the kids needed some things” (*cough* bullsh*t).  Since she handed over that credit card, she hadn’t done anything like this.  I’ve always been worried that she’d order things in Paladin’s name or open accounts with him as her co-signer.  This is the first time she’s done anything close to being outwardly illegal.  I guess she’s getting more desperate.  😦

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Three

Paladin’s away and so I can play.  It’s this or endlessly Clustying “adenomas”.  My Facebook update a couple of days ago was really only the tip of the iceberg around here.  It’s been one long crapfest really. 

It all started last week when Paladin brought a bout of fast ravaging flu in from his CASA meeting.  By the next morning, he was lying on the sofa at death’s door and by 10pm that night it was starting to hit me.  The b**ch of that was that I was scheduled for a CT scan the next morning to rule out the herniated intestine.  This meant that I couldn’t take even a tiny Tylenol for the chills, fever, and puking.  We spent a solid week trying to recuperate and I completely lost my voice for most of it.  Thankfully, I could kind of squeek/talk by the time my supervisors showed up for 2 days of visits. 

During this bout of death, Manjina stuck his head in to mention that the little gal he’d had round the week before was selling BBQ plates.  I innocently said, “For work or charity?”  His answer, “For her high school.”  That was the straw that broke le camel’s back!  Well, that and a couple of home improvement style snafus he became entwined in.  Frankly, it’s time for him to go!  He showed up last September to watch Brian for 3 days (which I paid him to do) and never left.  Paladin hasn’t wanted him here from the beginning but Brian felt obligated to take him in.  This is the end.  I made it very clear to Brian this afternoon that he has a week to find somewhere else to perch.  I don’t think that’s going to be so easy.  Last week when the supervisor was here I told Manjina he’d have to get his things out of Brian’s place because Brain is supposed to live alone.  Instead of just sticking things in Martian’s room, he loaded up the truck and went back to his friend’s flop house.  I’m guessing they told him there was no room at the inn because he was back the next day.  Either way, we have kids to think about and I don’t need any pedophilic crap going on around here.  HELL NO.  I don’t care if that girl was 80.  High schoolers are off limits!  Somebody’s daddy is going to take exception one of these days and shoot his ass and good for them when they do!  Brian’s a little pissy about it, but I told him the same things he used to say to me about Manjina when Mr. Ralph let Manjina walk all over him.  He’s old enough to find his own way in the world and if he ends up on the street too bad.  I AIN’T HAVIN’ IT!

Course, that was just today. 

Last Wednesday was my fertility ultrasound.  I knew something was wrong when the tech’s face fell a little and she asked me if I was sure about the date of my last cycle.  I went home and shook it off.  The next day I got a call that it didn’t look good.  There’s a ovarian cyst on the left ovary and the endometrial lining is abnormally thick.  They’ve set up another ultrasound but they chose a date just days before my cycle.  That doesn’t sound right to me.  I would think they’d want to check it at the same time next month in order to determine if that’s normal for my cycles.  I was in a fog through Thursday and most of Friday crying at the drop of a hat.

Then Friday afternoon came.  Dr. Trexie, the Army surgeon, told me that I don’t have a herniated intestine.  It’s more likely to be a stomach fistula (the old stomach has reattached itself like an alien parasite) or an ulcer.  Depending on the severity of either choice, it means a revision of my gastric bypass.  Thankfully, Trexxie has a lot of experience with gastric bypass complications because his last duty station had a weight loss surgery clinic and his unit specialized in dealing with all their complication cases.  That actually sounds pretty good to me.  Hey if I can’t have babies, I can at least lose enough weight to look like Anna Nicole at her druggiest. 

Then Trexxie hit me with the word: vomit (victim of modern imaging technology).  They’ve found a nodule on my adrenal gland.  He assured me that chances are that it’s absolutely nothing to worry about.  I take GREAT issue with that!  Any tumor…that’s right Doc, call it a nodule if you want but we’re not stupid, we know what that word means…  Any tumor an inch and a half long on a gland that is only the size of a walnut must be having some impact on my health.  So its more tests to rule out cancer, but frankly I want it out either way.  I’ve spent as much time as I could spare looking into the fertility issues and the adrenal adenomas, and I’m wondering if one is impacting the other.  In the military system, they can miss things like that because you’ve got a P.A. working on the fertility test and an M.D. taking care of the adenoma.

So, Thursday I was hit with fertility problems.  By Friday, I might have cancer.  On Saturday morning, Mom was admitted to the hospital ICU for a blood disorder and Manjina had to be taken to the ER for kidney stones while Brian got a much milder version of the flu I’d had. 

All this with the kids here this weekend.  The one thing about kids is they don’t give you time to cry.  So when you’re teaching Indie to put her doll to bed, you have to turn away to wipe the tears.  I worked really hard to keep everything normal for them, but I ached from the strain of it to be honest.  The kids were good.  We took them out for Chinese on Saturday because I couldn’t face cooking and we wanted to prove to them that they could learn to like new things.  That and Paladin loves to show of his chopstick chops.  I was in a semi-coma all weekend but I managed to keep it to myself.  Nothing really bad about Mull for once except that she had obviously been counting change and we paid her support not 5 days before that  Not to mention that Blind Boy should have gotten paid too.  (she left stacks of change on her dashboard where Paladin would notice them…maybe she’d hoped he’d offer her money).  We have also gotten one call for one of her bills being overdue, but Paladin hung up on them before I could tell him to find out what it was about.  You never know if shes been using him for a co-signer without him knowing it. 

Yesterday, we got to see Mom for a few minutes in the ICU.  Her blood developed anti-bodies to some donor blood she had gotten.  She hasn’t had a transfusion in months, and there’s no way of knowing which transfusion was responsible.  Either way, we found out today that the surgeon working on her leg and shoulder has messed up her arm to the point that its never going to be right again (all he had to do to make it right was to splint it…instead he had it just in a sling).  This is the same doctor who constantly kept wanting to help get her into a nursing home and who sent her home too soon from the first leg surgery.  I told Tina that it’s time to call a lawyer.  Let the lawyer look into it and if it’s fishy then it’s time for a lawsuit.  If not, then no harm done. 

It was the weekend from hell.  😦  I don’t know what to do with myself really.  It will be weeks before the other tests are even scheduled because of back logs on base.  In the meantime all I can do is worry and fend off advances from Paladin.  His testosterone came back low last week and the doctor put him on testosterone replacement.  Last night he was doing push ups and crunches in the floor.  He’s constantly trying to hump my leg now.  The Brothers kept giving him a hard time about Roid Rage yesterday on the way home from the ICU.  I’m not sure if I can deal with the teenage version of Paladin constantly wanting to boink me right now. 

Then again, maybe that means all my other wishes will come true.  Mull will fall off a cliff.  The “nodule” will be completely responsible for my fertility issues and will be easily removed resulting in me becoming knocked up at the first hint of spermage.  Then I’ll lose another 100lbs with the revision and the doc in Houston will give me the body of a young Anna Nicole. 

Right now I just feel deep down numb.  There’s nothing to do about anything.  I can’t fix it.  And, I can’t make time move faster either.

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